


Close Enough

by WowItsAlmostLikeICare



Series: Fenrys in the Universe [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Caring Thranduil, Cute Fenrys, Cute Legolas, Gen, No beta we die like mne, Protective Thranduil, Thranduil is a good parent, Young Legolas Greenleaf, i didn’t proofread this so sike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25303402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WowItsAlmostLikeICare/pseuds/WowItsAlmostLikeICare
Summary: His body was yanked back into the void, and he screamed into nothingness, screamed in fear and panic, still fighting all the way. He contorted his body this way and that, trying to escape the dark binds steadily wrapping themselves around him, locking limbs into place, all the while desperately searching for a way out, a doorway back.Fenrys takes his first trip to Middle Earth. There he meets some nice elves and not so nice orcs.
Series: Fenrys in the Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828444
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: Lord Of The Rings, Throne Of Glass





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HopefullyDothButterNoParsnips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefullyDothButterNoParsnips/gifts).



> So maybe I just really wanted to write this. Also this is my first in either fandom and it’s been years since I’ve read either books. So yeah. Enjoy.

The first time it had happened, it had been an accident. He had been young then, racing across flower-filled fields that no longer existed.

Connall has been there, filled with the joy of youth, the joy of ignorance, before either of them had ever heard the name Maeve.

They were playing, a game that called for one to hide whilst the other chased them, scenting the air for clues to their location. They had been playing it for the better part of the day. The last round had taken the longest, Connall hiding amongst the trees in the lower garden of their countryside home. Because he had won it was now Connall’s turn to find him and Fenrys’s to hide.

He started at the top of their land, before bolting down the tracks towards the field. The air streamed past him and he let out a delighted laugh. The ground was soft underneath his bare feet, his shoes having been left back at the house to throw his brother off his scent.

Connall had pulled the same trick on him a while back. It had unfortunately worked. Hopefully he’d be able to pay him back. He grinned to himself, already delighted with his imagining of what his brothers reaction would be. 

A flash of colour caught his attention, breaking him out of his reverie.

Slowing himself down to a walk, he looked around the field, trying to spot the unusual shade he had seen. There at the centre. It was a flower, quite unlike any he had seen before. He edged closer in fascination, the purple bloom luring him in. It was the colour of his mother’s favourite dress. Perhaps she would like it? He gently took a hold of the stem and pulled, breaking the flower off of it.

He looked down at it feeling extremely pleased with himself, fingers playing with the edges of its petals. It would make a fine gift for his mother. He could see it now, how she would give that small smile, the one she seldom used whenever their father was away from home. 

The sound of his brothers voice, loud and far too close, snapped him out of his thoughts and he blinked up, startled.

He let loose a small yelp, clutching the flower tightly in his hand, and quickly tore off in the opposite direction, down across the fields, grass stalks snapping under his bare feet. The sound of his twins musical laughter was far to near to him. He picked up more speed, dashing across the field and edging closer to the small corpse of birch trees along its border.

Perfect.

He put on one final burst of speed, before he was immersed in the cooler air of the woods. His brother was still close behind him and so he began running once more.

He twisted between each of the trees, wildly making his way around them, trying to make his brother loose his trail, twigs snapping underfoot, fallen leaves crunching with each step. He was only mildly successful. Hearing his brother close in, he dropped to the ground and, using his momentum, rolled under a fallen tree and down into a grass covered ditch.

There he lay panting, attempting to catch his breath whilst simultaneously trying to keep himself quiet, not wanting to give away his position. He wriggled down further into the grass, body pressed as closely to the ground as it could possibly go, face smushed so deeply into the stalks that it was all he could smell.

Footsteps sounded and he stiffened. There, above his hiding place, stood his brother, hands on his hips, dark hair a windswept mess from their mad dash across the fields.

“Ha. I caught you! You can come out now Fen.” He crowed, eyes narrowed, looking down at the exact place he was hiding. Fenrys didn’t move.

“I know you’re there Fen! Come out!” Connall whined. Fenrys huffed. He didn’t want to. He knew that his brother would tell everyone about beating him, as he always did when he won, and Fenrys didn’t want that. Family was visiting! He didn’t want them to know how easily he had been found. But maybe, if he wasn’t found for a long enough time, when his brother finally did catch him they could both brag. He nodded decisively to himself.

There was one problem though. He had no way to escape.

Or rather there was only one way out. But his mother had made him promise not to do it without supervision. He bit his lip, weighing his options. He could do it. Con wouldn’t know that he had. And he didn’t have to tell his mother. 

In fact she would never know, and, if he did it correctly and made his way back up to their home, he could hide there practically indefinitely, his brother thinking the whole time that he was still outside. He nodded sharply again, mind made up and reached for the place within him that would help.

It was like a small well, or at least that was the words his teacher had used to describe it. He thought it rather resembled a small bucket and had told his teacher so. The teacher, thinking him worried or dissatisfied, had been quick to reassure him that it would grow with his age, but Fenrys didn’t care much. It was his little bucket of power and he was quite proud of it.

The power pooled into him, he could feel it strengthening his body, waking up tired muscles and filling him with energy. A tightening in his gut, a clenching of his stomach, signalled that it was working, and, letting loose a soft breath, he closed his eyes.

He didn’t actually need to of course, but it greatly helped his focus, forcing him to concentrate on what he felt, what he saw in his minds eye, rather then what he could see with his actual eyes.

A cool wind brushed over him, blowing his hair from his a face and rustling his clothes. He felt himself slipping through the cracks and focused his will on where he wanted to be taken. Or rather, where he wanted to end up. It was hard to describe the ability and so far he seemed the only one able to do it out of the twins, the only one in the whole region it had turned out.

The power was about asserting his will yes, in that regard it was similar to the other abilities of his fellow face, but also about finding the right place to slip ‘through’. Here his tutor was next to useless and he often had to figure these thing out for himself. It was hard to find a way through the darkness, the place in between each of his jumps and so he spent his time following preexisting routes.

He knew that the darkness would vanish, had a feeling that this would change as he grew, becoming faster in his jumps and spending less and less time in the place between, but for now that was all he could manage, traversing paths that already existed, slow walks through the void.

He focused his will, thoughts, and entire being, on the steps before his home, pressing the power to take him there. It obliged, opening a small gateway for him to slip through, glowing brightly in the surrounding darkness. 

He felt excitement bubble up inside him at the thought of beating his brother, showing how clever he was. He had only taken a single step outside, foot in front of his house, when he felt something go wrong.

The winds begun to pick up, whirling tightly around him and battering at his clothes. They were now an icy cold, biting at his skin, temperature dropping quicker and quicker. Darkness twisted in with them and swirled around him, blinding him, keeping him from seeing his way out. He was being pulled back, back into the in-between place. Fear clawed at his throat as he tried to fight it, struggle against the invisible force dragging him away from the opening. It was of no use.

His body was yanked back into the void, and he screamed into nothingness, screamed in fear and panic, still fighting all the way. He contorted his body this way and that, trying to escape the dark binds steadily wrapping themselves around him, locking limbs into place, all the while desperately searching for a way out, a doorway back.

It was wholly dark now, nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard or smelt. Endless nothingness.

He was beginning to tire, body worn out, succumbing to an exhaustion that he had never felt before. He blinked, eyelids heavy with a want to close, lungs fighting to draw breath, limbs loosening. 

He looked and saw a bright light. He remembered stories that had been told of this light, that which would guide lost warriors and take them to better places. He stared longer, a feeling of disappointed within him. Was this it? Was this really the light of the gods?

He squinted then stiffened in surprise which gradually turned into hope. It was-No-It couldn’t be-but-Yes! It was.

The light was further along from him and rocking gently, in the way gateways did before they closed. A speck of light in the dark. It glowed and he could almost feel the warmth that emitted from it. 

With one final burst of energy, fuelled with hope and adrenaline, he began to struggle again, the bonds tightening mercilessly against him. He still fought. He was so close. So close.

Fenrys stretched himself out, reaching out for the freedom it promised. His fingers where scrabbling for purchase against the dark strands, trying to push them off so that he could attempt to lean even further in the direction of the gateway.

The strands loosened, only for a moment, but that was all he needed. With one final surge of strength he pulled himself out and towards the light.

He fell through.

Warm air immediately kissed his skin and he let loose a soft sob of relief. Around him it was still and he drew in a shuddering breath. He was safe. Safe.

Exhaustion finally claimed him and he passed blissfully into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrys wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I meant to do this sooner. Again no beta so all mistakes are mine. I suck at grammer so feel free to point it out!

“-quickly, quickly!”

“-ai, where could he have-”

“- in the northern part of the forest, did you say-”

“-not possible! Our patrols would have-”

“-poor thing, he feels terribly cold-”

“-one of ours? No it is not-”

“-awake?”

“-don’t think-”

“-must sleep young one.”

* * *

He swum in and out of consciousness for an unknown amount of time. Sometimes he was joined in his room by a soft, feminine voice, others, an equally gentle male voice. They would come, bringing warmth and light, calming his mind and fears.

When they left though, the cold would slowly come creeping back in, his mind would freeze and his limbs turn to lead. His muscles tightened, contracted, and loosened sporadically, causing his whole body to shake uncontrollably.

This would bring the strange voices rushing back in, their warmth following soon after, and the biting cold would recede, only for the whole cycle to start once more when they left.

It was tiring, to hover on that edge of wakefulness and sleep, constantly failing to make the final jump into awareness.

He slept on.

* * *

“-must help!”

“-not much we can-”

“-to be something!”

“-strange fits last?”

“-Lord Elrond?”

“-the King!”

“-my Lord we must-”

“-hush, I will sort it out.”

* * *

He awoke to the sun’s rays beating down intensely onto his face. The shining warmth turned the light behind his closed eyelids a buttery yellow and a pleasant feeling tingled along his spine.

He found himself stretching, like that of the overgrown cats found further South from their homelands, muscles pulling with his every movement. His limbs felt strong, almost strangely so. He had hazy recollections of a seeping cold that had caused them to lock up and tense. But, they didn’t feel as though they had suffered, his body, in fact, felt better than it had in a long time.

He finally opened his eyes, fully adjusted to the brightness of the room. When he did he gasped.

The room was round and circular, wooden pole-like pillars running from floor to high, vaulted ceiling. The walls seem to be made of a lighter wood, yellow-white in the brilliance of the sun slanting in. Large windows were set on the far right hand side of him, the reason for the most of the light in the room. Thin, gossamer drapes hung from their top, stirring slightly in the small breeze.

He lay in the middle of a large bed, pushed up against the back wall in the centre of the room. The bed itself was impossibly soft, sinking down with his weight, sheets a gentle silk, a balm against his skin. Skin that, he was only noticing now, was littered with bruises of various shades and sizes. He frowned down at them before dismissing them for later thought.

He lifted himself up and onto his elbows, leaning up slightly, craning his neck to try and see the door situated on his left. It was cracked open slightly, filling him with curiosity and the need to see what was behind it.

A wave of exhaustion hit him suddenly and he collapsed back down onto the sheets, groaning slightly. His body felt fighting fit, as if it could run leagues upon leagues across the valley filled fields of the East, the high mountains of the North. If only his mind felt the same.

He had been awake for what was probably less than an hour, but felt like years.

He wriggled slightly, trying to find the most comfortable of positions before snuggling in and closing his eyes again. He was asleep immediately.

* * *

He awoke much later to a darkened room. The window had been shut, but the drapes left open, cool moonlight shining through.

He blinked slightly, struggling to pull himself out of his daze and sat up, leaning against the pillows behind him.

His mind was clearer now, well-rested and he began to take stock of his surroundings. Not the interior of the room, no. rather, where he was. The jump had failed, that much he knew. Something had caused him to be pulled back into the void and spat out somewhere else.

He didn’t recognise the architecture style, it was too natural, too organic, to have come from his homeland. The forest he had landed in had been a beautiful green, something that was wholly different to the forests at his home in this season. 

The leaves of the trees were supposed to have already turned shades of orange and fallen. It was turning into winter. But here, what little he had seen of it, looked as if it were at the height of spring.

There were no nearby weather changers in his home place, no one to change the weather on a small scale to be that of their preferred type. So where was he?

He shifted up further and settled himself more comfortably against the pillows. And froze.

He had caught sight of his arms. He had a faint recollection of noticing them earlier, when the sun had lit up the room from of the outside. 

He studied them more intensely now, wondering where they had come from. Some of the even looked like hand marks.

He prodded experimentally at one and hissed. 

A soft laugh sounded.

His head snapped up, looking wildly around for the source of the sound. There, from the shadows he had previously dismissed, sat a figure.

Fenrys immediately straightened himself, panic filling him up, attempting to stand and defend himself. His legs twisted and caught in the blankets, throwing off his balance and causing him to hit the ground hard and fall. 

He let out a low groan.

Warm hands gently lifted him up and he found himself face to face with a familiar but equally unfamiliar face.

The figure was lithe and tall, different to many of the warriors of his homeland, they mainly being broad and heavily-muscled.

His face was smooth, clean-shaven and he had long hair that fell around and below his shoulders, tied up at the top to keep it out of his face. But the thing that was familiar, which was both similar and not, was his ears.

They were pointed, like that of his people, marking him as not human. But unlike his own that were long, tapering into a point at the end, the beings were the shape of leaves, long, yes, but not as thin.

That was the first main difference. The second was that the non-human in front of him seemed to be faintly glowing in the moonlight, a soft light emitting from his skin.

He blinked up startled, wondering if perhaps he had hit his head on the way down to the floor.

The non-human lifted him up before moving him, pushing him back onto the bed and covering him once more with the sheets.

He then stood by his side and placed a warm hand onto his forehead, before fetching a glass of water from where he had been sitting in the far corner.

Fenrys frowned down at the glass, not drinking. What if it was poisoned or something? The non-human let loose another laugh before gesturing at the glass.

“Drink _penneth_. I can assure you that we do not wish you ill, in truth we have spent long days ensuring your health. Drink.”

Fenrys ducked his head, embarrement burning on his cheeks at his thoughts being read so clearly, drank, body singing with joy at finally getting what it had wanted. He placed the empty glass back into the non-humans hand with a quietly murmured “Thank you.”

There was silence for a bit but Fenrys was full to the brim with curiosity. The non-human seemed to read this.

“Now what is it that you wished to know _penneth?_ ” He asked, amusement apparent in the small quirk of his lips.

“Tell me your name,”He blurted out. It wasn’t what he had wanted to know or what his mother would say that manners dictated him to say, that being to thank the non-human for his hospitality, but, well, the truth was he felt horribly exposed in nothing, he realised, but his sheets. 

The non-human showed no reaction to the uncouth demand and merely answered his question.

“Galion.”

There was silence. 

“Galion?” Fenrys ventured after a moment.

“Yes?”

“How was it that I came to be here?”

The other hummed thoughtfully for a moment before answering, his voice a soothing calm.

“Rightly, I do not know. You were found unconscious at the edge of our lands. We took you in, placing you in our healing wards. Your skin was deathly cold, like that of the air on the days of the first frost and you lips had turned a most brilliant blue. 

We feared that you had contracted hyperthermia, though we did not see how this was possible at the height of the summer season. You were under like this for two mornings. But it was by the third that we began to worry.”

Fenrys’s eyes flicked down to the marks on his arms and back up to Galion. Galion nodded his head.

“Yes. The bruises on your body are from this, many self-inflicted in your half-waking, half-sleeping state.” Here he frowned slightly.

“Truly, we do not know the cause of it, the violent shudders and seizures that afflicted your body. Would you possibly be able to shed some light on this?”

Fenrys bit his lip. He could guess that it had something to do with his botched jump, in fact he was certain of that. But he didn’t know where he was, didn’t know who they were or even if he could trust him. He knew nothing.

He shook his head. No emotion showed on Galion’s face apart from the slight concern in his eyes that had been there from the beginning although he must have guessed that it was a lie. 

He wondered why. Why he wasn’t called out on his easy-to-see-through deception.

A soft knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts.

Gallon gave him an apologetic smile.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I must go see what they want.”

He walked swiftly across the room and to the large door before slipping out and closing it firmly behind him.

Fenrys stared. 

A throbbing had started up behind his head, a barely-there ache that promised to become more if he ignored it, brought on, no doubt, by his exhaustion-fuelled state.

He clutched at the sheets surrounding him, feeling the first thread of fear. He didn’t know where he was, or who these people were. Didn’t even know if they were friends or enemies. Gods he had, as his father would say, royally screwed up.

He could almost feel his mother’s disapproving gaze at his language and he felt a slightly hysterical laugh build up in his throat.

Right, not thinking about that now.

He forced his mind into a blank state, not wanting to even consider the possibilities or concerns of where he was. His head hurt, his _whole body_ hurt and all he wanted to do was sleep.

Just as he came to the decision to do precisely that, the door opened again and Galion walked back in. Fenrys groaned internally.

“Our King has asked to see you.”

All thoughts of sleep vanished from his mind. He knew enough about royalty that ‘asking’ actually meant ‘telling’, and that they had the ability to make anyone’s life extremely complicated if they weren’t obeyed immediately. He gulped before making to get out of the bed.

Galion seeing this, hurried to his side and caught him as he buckled.

“Slow down _penneth_. The King would not mind waiting for you to regain your strength a little. You can sleep so more, if you want.”

Fenrys shook his head. Anxiety was churning his stomach into knots and he knew that no matter how tired he actually was, he wouldn’t be able to find sleep now. He squared his shoulders, it was best to get it out of the way.

“I feel fine, I can go.”

Galion thankfully didn’t deign to give a response to this, nor point out how he was clearly not fine. Instead he merely took a hold of his arm, steadying him, and led him out of the room.

Beyond it were winding corridors, twisted wood and stone set with shining gems. It looked as if they were underground, in some sort of cavern. Although the rock walls were the only similarity they bore with caverns. No, this place was warmly lit, the air fresh. Flower-filled vines snaked up and twisted across the high ceilings and he could sometimes here soft singing voices rise up and float in the air.

Despite this they remained suspiciously empty. He wondered where everyone was. He asked as much of Galion.

“There are corridors like this all over the hold. These particular sets are passageways that lead directly from the guest healing chambers to the front of the King’s studies.”

“Guest healing chambers?”

“Yes. It wouldn’t do for our soliders to be mixed with those coming to visit. It’d be too loud.”

It was quiet then, Fenrys straggling behind Galion’s longer legs. He took the time to look at him, trying to guess who, or what, he was. A non-human, yes, but not like one he had ever seen before.

Galion stopped suddenly and Fenrys found himself walking straight into his back, pulled from his thoughts. He blinked startled.

There, in front of, stood a pair of towering doors, a red-wood colour. And behind them was undoubtedly the King. Galion gave him an encouraging smile.

Fenrys took a deep breath and pushed them open.

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe like 4 chapters?


End file.
